12

Tai

I’d called Phélan again before Fi, Daix and I ever got as far as my cellar hideaway. Honestly, the plan to use myself as Fionn-shaped bait had been circling in my mind for a while.

I still wasn’t sure I was ready to relinquish it altogether. But Daix’s plan had merit, too.

Either way, I needed to pick Phélan’s brains.

The man had the sense not to shadow me, this time – or at least, not to let me know that he had. He did what I’d expected him to do. He went to my house.

I knew he was there from the moment I opened the front door. I’ve never been able to decide whether or not I’m imagining things, when it comes to Phélan. He has an impact on things people have no business messing with, like atmosphere, and shadows, and the precise quality of the silence.

Atmosphere: subtly tense.

Shadows: deeper than they ought to be, like holes in the world.

Silence: profound.

I closed and locked the door behind me, and dropped my keys on a nearby shelf. ‘Hi, Phélan.’

‘Tai.’ The word emerged from the depths of the darkness. Phélan didn’t.

I switched on the light.

He was standing – no, lurking – at the rear of my living room, leaning against the wall in a pose of deceptive casualness. He didn’t move, but he did squint against the sudden light.

‘Sorry,’ I said, stepping out of my shoes. ‘But I really don’t need you being dark and shadowy all over my personal space.’

‘Still finding that devastatingly attractive?’

‘Still finding it incredibly annoying.’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘You do know those things aren’t meant to be the same, right?’

He shrugged. ‘If it works.’

‘It doesn’t work. I mean, it’s pretty much the textbook definition of an unhealthy relationship.’

‘Since no part of this has ever been a relationship, I shall go right on being dark and shadowy.’

‘I knew there was a reason I didn’t talk to you for a decade. Or eight.’

Phélan’s mouth tightened.

‘That being so,’ I continued, ‘why exactly did you give me your number?’

I’d come home one day, several years ago, to find a note on my pillow. My fucking pillow. It had nothing on it save somebody’s mobile phone number, hastily scrawled in black ink. I didn’t need to recognise Phélan’s writing to know it was his.

‘And by the way,’ I added, ‘if you were actively trying to be as creepy as possible you couldn’t have done a better job.’

‘That’s fair,’ he said, surprisingly serious.

‘So? What the hell were you doing.’

‘I wanted you to know I was looking out for you.’

‘By breaking into my room and leaving your contact details in my actual bed.’

‘I… yes.’

‘There’s a term for that kind of thing.’

‘Don’t say stalker.’

‘That’s the one.’

‘I haven’t been stalking you.’

‘Except for the pillow-note thing. Oh, and following me to the club tonight.’

‘Looking out for you.’

‘That’s not how you do that.’

He shrugged. ‘Okay, answer me this then: why did you save my number?’

‘Because… I happen to be an idiot.’

He grinned, which was annoying, because my traitorous heart performed a somersault on the spot. ‘Me too.’

‘Okay. Good to clear that up.’ I sank into an armchair, and sat with my arms folded. ‘While I fully see the appeal of looming over me from an intimidating height, it’s also fine to sit down.’

‘Thank you,’ he said politely, quite as though I’d been courteous as well, and sat down across from me.

We engaged in a little mutual staring.

‘Right,’ I said, sitting up a little straighter. ‘Business. I called you because I do actually need your help.’

‘I recall.’

That reminded me of the evening’s events; my gaze strayed, guiltily, to the burns on his neck. ‘I’m sorry about the… Daix, thing.’

‘I know. I’ve always been pretty sorry about the Daix thing, too.’

‘I don’t think she’s set fire to anyone in years. It’s hard for her.’

‘I sympathise.’

Knowing Phélan, he literally might.

‘Are we getting around to why you called me?’ he prompted.

‘I called you because you’re the worst person I know.’

A slight frown. ‘Right.’

‘If anyone of my acquaintance is likely to have their fingers deep in this pie, it’s you.’

‘I think that was an insult,’ said Phélan. ‘Not even a pretend insult, either.’

‘It was.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It’s fair.’ Phélan had so often turned out to be involved in some scheme we were disrupting, if never very deeply. He was never the mastermind, never really committed himself to any scheme of infamy, but he was more than happy to make use of other people’s if it benefited him somehow.

His face registered annoyance, briefly, then turned rueful. ‘It is fair. Why don’t you fill me in about this particular pie?’

‘It’s not just about that selkie they pulled out of the river. There are more.’ I gave him a rapid precis of the developments thus far, and our suspicions as to the probable motives. Phélan listened in silence; I couldn’t tell, from his face, what he was thinking.

‘So when I heard that some mysterious sluagh’s been trying to flog one or more selkie-skins on the quiet,’ I concluded, ‘naturally I thought of you.’

‘Gratifying.’

‘So? Anything for me?’

‘I’m not a slaver.’

‘I’m both pleased because I’d rather you weren’t, and disappointed because that doesn’t help me find Mearil.’

‘I haven’t heard anything about this. But I should’ve.’

‘Can you—’

He cut me off with a gesture. ‘Yes, I can make enquiries.’

‘Great. Please do that. Actually though, I was going to ask if you’ll back me up at Tully’s while I investigate.’

‘You’re asking me to go to the Puca with you.’

‘It’s not a date.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting it was.’

I glared. ‘If I’m going to sell Fionn, it stands to reason I need to know who to sell her to. And that I’d use your connections. You and I can approach these people, find out who’s in the market for selkie-slaves—’

Phélan held up a hand. ‘We’re… selling Fionn.’

‘Obviously.’

‘I knew there was bad blood between the fatales these days, but not that bad.’

‘Get over it. We’re ostensibly selling Fionn, because I know where she hides her sealskin, therefore why wouldn’t I.’

‘Why indeed.’

‘So we’re agreed?’

‘I don’t see why you need my help charming these amateurs.’

‘I’ve never needed any help with that.’

His lips twitched. ‘So? What do you need me for?’

‘I can’t remember where I left my aura of badness, so I need to borrow yours.’

‘Tai. You’re still completely fatal.’

I beamed. ‘Thanks.’

‘But I’ll help.’

‘Great. I’ll owe you.’

‘Interesting.’ He sat forward, fixing me with a dark, intent stare. ‘What will you owe me?’

I held that gaze, because no way is the bastard going to intimidate me. ‘Would you accept… one Tai-hug?’

‘A pitiful offer. I’m going to need at least five.’

‘It… it was pitiful, wasn’t it? Clearly I’ve forgotten how to reward my flunkies, too.’

‘Flunky.’

I nodded.

‘Penalty awarded. The price is now ten Tai-hugs.’

‘Ten? Ridiculous. Have you forgotten what these things are worth?’

‘Not in the least. That’s why I want ten.’

‘I can go as high as four,’ I countered.

‘Six, and that’s my final offer.’

‘You drive a hard bargain.’

He shrugged. ‘So go borrow someone else’s aura of badness.’

‘Five and a half and it’s a deal.’

‘Half?’

‘Yes.’

‘Half a hug.’

‘It’s within the bounds of possibility.’

‘Fine. Five and a half Tai-hugs, but only because I’d love to watch you attempt to half-hug anybody.’

He had a point. I never do things by halves, and certainly not hugs. ‘Challenge accepted.’ I held out my hand; we shook to seal the deal.

‘Right, meet me at the Puca tonight,’ I said. ‘Around six. We’ll camp until these assholes show up.’

‘What if they don’t?’

‘Then we’ll go back the next night. Or we’ll get a lead from Tully. I don’t know, okay? We’re winging it.’

He grinned. ‘And that’s the Tai I know and love.’

‘A deranged screw-up?’

‘A deranged and affectionate screw-up.’

‘Yes, I guess I missed you too.’

I snatched a few hours’ sleep, because a semi-comatose Tai is all kinds of no fun. But somewhere around lunchtime, I was woken by the sound of the front door slamming shut, the jangle of keys dropped into the tray, and the thud of something solid hitting the floor.

Coronis, with luggage.

‘Tai!’ she yelled.

I wrenched my befuddled consciousness out of sleep-land and back into something like reality. It cost me an effort. By the time I’d hauled myself out of bed, donned a vaguely respectable garment, and shuffled as far as the door, Coronis was already barging through it.

‘She’s not here,’ I said, noting the way Coronis’s hazy grey eyes searched my room.

‘You haven’t found her.’

‘Not yet.’

‘Shit.’ Coronis slumped onto the edge of my bed, her gauzy, silvered wings fluttering with agitation, and put her face into her hands.

‘I know.’ I sat beside her, and put an arm around her, drawing her into a hug. ‘We’re trying, believe me.’

‘Looks more like you’re sleeping.’

‘Because I was up most of the night, looking for Mea.’

Coronis sighed, and sat up. ‘Sorry. That was bitchy.’

I gave her an extra, reassuring squeeze before I released her. ‘I’ll tell you about it in a minute, but I actually have some questions I want to ask you.’

‘Anything.’ Coronis, a cloud nymph, is a storm in a tea-cup at the best of times. Now tension and worry had made her steely, brittle. The look she gave me cut me to the heart, for beneath a surface chill — like winter rainwater — she was hungry for a reason to hope. I had little to offer.

‘We may have traced a connection between Mearil and a few other selkies,’ I began. ‘And those other selkies all have links to the Eventide club. Do you know it?’

‘Shit,’ said Coronis, again. ‘Mea went there. About two weeks back.’

My heart leapt — and sank. ‘Tell me.’

‘She was so damned excited about it. Bought a new dress and everything.’

‘You didn’t go with her?’

Coronis shook her head. ‘She went with a friend. Brianne. They invited me, but I — said no. I hate places like that. But I should’ve gone. Shit, Tai, I never should have let her go alone.’

My head spun; I barely heard the rest of Coronis’s words. ‘Brianne? Brianne Lamarre?’

Coronis came back from the guilt spiral she was busily falling down; her gaze sharpened. ‘You know her.’

‘Mea knows her? You told me she hadn’t made any new friends recently.’

‘Well, and she hasn’t. She’s been friends with Brianne for a month or two, must be. Met at some work-related thing.’

‘I… would characterise that as recent, Cor.’

‘I thought you meant, in the last week or two.’

‘Anybody else she’s taken up with in the last couple of months?’

‘Not to my knowledge. Just Brianne.’

‘So Brianne fucking Lamarre took Mea to Eventide two weeks ago. Or, ten days or so before she disappeared.’

That explained how Mea’s movements had been known. If she’d seen Brianne as a friend, naturally she’d have told her about her upcoming trip away. But perhaps not much in advance. Had Brianne tried to lure her to Eventide again — or to the Pearls club — only to be declined on account of Mea’s upcoming flight? They’d had to scramble to grab her before she left the country.

Brianne Lamarre.

‘Okay, hold these thoughts,’ I said, reaching for my phone. Fi and Daix needed to know about this. Brianne absolutely wasn’t just bait, and her approach of that poor, naïve idiot of a selkie, Cellann, was neither innocent nor a coincidence. She was deeply involved in the scheme, and had been laying plans for weeks. Had she been cosying up to Narasel and Melly, too? Likely.

We should’ve eviscerated her back at Eventide, when we had the chance. Instead, we’d alerted her to our involvement, confirmed that we’d taken the damned bait, and then… let her go, because then we hadn’t had sound enough reason to do otherwise.

I ought to have known. We ought to have known.

Where the hell she was now was anybody’s guess, but I feared we wouldn’t be seeing her again. Not until she was ready for us. We’d face her on her terms, not ours.

Damnit.

‘Daix,’ I said when she picked up the call. ‘Tell me you’ve had your creepy surveillance thing going on Brianne Lamarre.’

‘I thought my creepy surveillance thing was a totally unjustifiable invasion of privacy.’

‘It is when you’re running it on me.’

‘Oh, sure. Hate it ‘til you love it. See, Tai, you need me.’

‘For once, Daix, I’m going to say: cut the jokes. This is important.’

‘You? Cut the jokes? Now I know shit’s got serious.’

‘Daix. Do you know where Brianne Lamarre is?’

She hesitated.

Daix is the incorrigible smart mouth, with an answer for everything. I know, I know; coming from me, that’s rich. But you really can’t shut Daix up.

For her to be at a loss for an answer, however briefly, is never a good sign.

‘You don’t know,’ I filled in.

‘I had her, I swear. Then she — vanished.’

‘Vanished.’

Daix paused again, a silence I’d term, in her case, deafening. ‘Okay, she clocked me.’

‘You? You were personally tailing her?’

‘Not me as in physically me. What, you think I have nothing better to do than follow vaguely questionable people around all day in the hope they’ll do something shady?’

‘She’s a lot more than vaguely questionable, Daix. She lured Mearil to Eventide; Coronis just confirmed it. There can be no doubt she’s behind all this, so tell me again about how you lost her.’

‘I lost her? You weren’t even trying!’

‘You’re right. That was unjust. But could we just get on with it.’

Daix sighed. ‘I put someone on her tail. Someone good. One of my best, but it’s like she was expecting it. She spotted him in next to no time, and — I kid you not — blew him a goddamned kiss before she… vanished.’

‘Vanished as in, how?’

‘As in, no fucking clue, Tai. She was there and then she wasn’t.’

‘Wasn’t visibly there or wasn’t there?’

‘Whatever the distinction might have been, my agent wasn’t able to determine.’

‘So she’s gone.’

‘Yep.’

My turn for a lengthy silence, turning over this unwelcome news. I broke it at last by saying, ‘Daix, I don’t think it’s like she was expecting to be followed. I think she was. She approached Mearil weeks ago, made a friend of her — precisely in the furtherance of this godawful scheme. She was ready for you. Hell, she probably knows all the people you’d send to tail her.’

Daix’s subsequent silence was more of the fuming variety. ‘Fine, I was out-jockeyed,’ she finally said. ‘Happy?’

‘It’s not your fault,’ I said, though I had to conquer a mild urge to tear her face off even as I said it. ‘We’ve all screwed up. We got complacent. Lazy. Unwary. And for some reason, Brianne Lamarre is taking great pleasure in taking advantage of that.’

‘Yes, what’s got into her anyway?’

‘We’ve talked about this. If there’s someone from back in the day who’s trying to settle scores, we didn’t really consider Brianne. Sure, we saw her with that selkie at Eventide, but — what the hell did we ever do to her to deserve this kind of shit?’

‘No clue,’ said Daix. ‘Did we fuck up some scheme of hers that I’ve forgotten about?’

‘Not to my knowledge.’

‘Then, what?

‘I don’t know. Let’s find out where the hell she vanished to, shall we? Then we can ask her ourselves.’

Daix growled something. ‘Fine, I’m on it. Call you when I’ve got something.’

She hung up.

I sent Fionn a text. Fi. Brianne Lamarre’s our culprit. Any chance you can go back to Eventide tonight? Doubt she’ll show up, but you could maybe ask around.

‘Right,’ I said to Coronis. ‘The ladies are chasing up on Brianne. I’ve got other fish to fry.’

‘Right. And what am I supposed to do?’

My phone buzzed: Fionn. ‘Hang on,’ I said absently, reading.

Can and will. Are you sure about Bri, though?

‘Right. You need to… wait,’ I said to Coronis.

‘Wait? That’s it? I need to help, Tai. Give me something to do.’

‘All right. What do you want to do?’

‘I can go to Eventide—’

‘How are you going to get in?’

She opened her mouth, paused, and closed it again. ‘Well—’

‘Forget it. I’ve got someone on that. What else?’

‘I…’

‘Hang on. There is a thing. Just a second.’

I typed back to Fionn. Fairly, yes. I’d go with you but I’m committed to the Puca with P.

‘Brianne,’ I said to Coronis. ‘She and Mea were friends for several weeks?’

‘I… yes, so she said. She didn’t mention her name until, maybe, three or four weeks ago, but it seemed like she wasn’t a brand new acquaintance then.’

‘She have a phone number for Brianne? An address?’

‘If she had a number for Brianne, it’ll be on her phone, which presumably is on her.’ Coronis brightened. ‘Hey, maybe we could trace—’

‘The phone. No. Brianne’s no amateur. If Mea had a phone on her, they’d have tossed it long ago.’

‘Oh.’

‘I know. It’s so annoying dealing with people who know what they’re doing. So she wouldn’t have a record of Brianne’s details anywhere?’

Coronis shrugged. ‘You searched her room. Did you find an address book or anything?’

‘Anything so helpful, yet so old-fashioned literally nobody does that anymore? No. I did not.’

Message from Fionn. Careful at the Puca.

She didn’t add, careful with Phélan, but I got that message anyway.

I wrote back. Careful at Eventide.

‘Your job then, if you need me to tell you,’ I said to Coronis, ‘is to turn this place upside down and see if anything related to Brianne falls out. A number would be great. An address, better. But honestly, I’ll take anything.’

Coronis nodded. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m delving into the heart of mortal peril by gate-crashing a sluagh crime party.’

Coronis’s eyes grew larger. ‘You really are a fatale.’

‘I thought you called that already.’

‘It’s one thing to realise it intellectually. Different to see it in practice. I’ve always known you as a slouch with a great voice.’

‘Thanks. Wasn’t always such a slouch. Anyway, the mortal peril’s tonight. Right now, I badly need a sandwich.’

I returned to the Booted Puca an hour or so ahead of my agreed meeting with Phélan. I wanted time to get my bearings, settle in, talk to Tully… and watch the goings-on. You can learn so much without having to ask a single question, just by paying attention to what’s going on around you.

Of course, it was too much to expect that Brianne Lamarre would be sitting at a corner table, nursing a drink and chatting about her evil plans at a penetrating volume. Or that the mysterious sluagh gang Tully had mentioned would be neatly arranged around a table, buying and selling selkie-skins — and therefore, slaves — just at the moment I wanted to be spying on them. Such glorious coincidences of timing aren’t absolutely unheard of, but they’re rare.

Still, there’s always gossip. Always gossip.

‘Hey, Tully,’ I said, wandering up to the bar. I’d chosen to dress down this time, dark jeans and a tank top. I didn’t want to be nearly so eye-catching as I was last night at Eventide. ‘Get me one of whatever’s popular today.’

‘We’re all over the pale ales today,’ answered Tully. He grabbed a slim, hazily-blue bottle and presented it to me.

‘Starlight Frostbite,’ I read. ‘Sold.’

He beamed. ‘It’s as good as it sounds,’ he promised, pouring me a tall glass. And it was; one sip froze my lips blue, in a good way.

I paid, and took a moment to survey the pub. About half the tables were taken, several with lone drinkers, the rest with groups. None of them looked like the sluagh gang I was on the watch for. ‘Tully,’ I said, in a lower voice. ‘Does Brianne Lamarre come in here?’

‘Not… openly.’

‘Oh?’

Tully tapped one green-gold eye.

‘Let me see if I can parse that,’ I said. ‘Glamoured. Thinks she’s concealed but you’re wise to those tricks.’

‘Pays to be, with this job.’

‘Uh huh. She meet with anybody noteworthy when she’s here?’

He twinkled at me. ‘You got someone in mind?’

‘A certain sluagh gang who may or may not be peddling particularly questionable contraband.’

‘Not that I’ve seen.’

I nodded. Made sense enough. If Brianne was behind the scheme, she might be using these sluagh to fence the skins, but she wouldn’t need to meet them in so public a place for that. Those arrangements would’ve been made elsewhere. No, the sluagh were here looking for buyers.

Leaning against the bar, I asked, casually, ‘And Phélan Astrophel?’

Tully gave a nod. ‘Seen him, a time or two.’

‘He meeting with these sluagh at all?’

‘Happen you should ask him yerself,’ said Tully, and winked. With a tilt of his head, he indicated a corner behind me. I turned.

A tall figure sat there with his back to the wall. He wore a dark suit, very sharp, with a black homburg — like that would hide his face enough to conceal him from me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that Phélan had the same idea as me, and arrived early. What surprised me was that he’d managed to slip in without my noticing. I’m damned sure he hadn’t been there when I walked in.

‘Thanks, Tully,’ I sighed. ‘I’ll do that.’ I grabbed my glass of Starlight Frostbite and stalked over to Phélan’s table.

‘Look at you, cleaning up all nice,’ I said as I sank into a seat.

He looked up, and, surprisingly, smiled. ‘Tai. No sultry gown today?’

‘How did you know I was up to my eyeballs in gowns yesterday?’

‘Oh, I doubt very much you were up to your anything in gowns,’ he returned. ‘Down, maybe. To about, here?’ He made a vague gesture in the direction of my cleavage area.

‘As you can see,’ I said, folding my arms upon the table-top. ‘I’m not breaking that out for you.’

‘How do I get that deal again?’

‘Start by answering my questions. Did you follow me to Eventide?’

‘I’m tempted to let you keep thinking that, but no. Just a guess. The Tai of old had a taste for luxury.’

‘I’m not the Tai of old.’

‘That’s becoming clear.’ Phélan signalled Tully. A black glass bottle of something came duly floating over, followed by an empty glass.

‘If you think you like that,’ said Phélan, nodding at my Frostbite. ‘You should try this.’

‘I’m good. Can’t think clearly with too much alcoholic brain freeze.’

‘Maybe I’m not too interested in your thinking clearly.’

‘Phélan, this is business. Flirt some other time.’

He sighed, took off his hat, and tossed it on a vacant chair. ‘All right. You spoke of questions, plural. What were the rest?’

‘I was just asking Tully whether you’ve ever been seen rubbing elbows with these selkie-trafficking sluagh.’

‘I told you. I’m no slaver.’

‘So you did.’

‘Doesn’t seem like you were listening.’

I shrugged. ‘I want to believe you. Considering everything, though, it’s not unwise to ask questions.’

‘And Tully said what?’

‘Said to ask you myself. Which is interesting, because I never saw you come in, and I was expecting you.’

Phélan’s gaze flicked to the bar, and the unassuming clurichaun presently polishing glasses. ‘Tully’s got all sorts of hidden depths.’

‘Probably needs to. Can’t be easy lording it over the only truly neutral ground in the city.’

‘I wouldn’t underestimate him.’

‘It’s okay. I’m fairly sure he likes me.’

‘That being your weapon of choice.’ Phélan gave me an unreadable look.

‘Pure likeability?’ I grinned. ‘It’s true. I’m everyone’s favourite gal. Except when I’m really not.’

Phélan took a drink. I waited, but no rejoinder emerged.

‘You missed your cue to tell me how unpopular I am with you,’ I said.

‘Is that something you need to hear?’

‘Need, no. But it’s fun.’

Phélan said nothing. I’d lost his attention; he was looking past me, at something unfolding out of my field of vision.

‘That,’ he said after a moment, ‘is Nelo Lysander.’

I resisted the urge to turn and gawk, with an effort. ‘And he is?’

‘A… cousin, of sorts.’ Phélan didn’t look happy to see him.

Sluagh can be funny about family. By which I mean, family ties are supposed to be everything. They’re more tribal than clannish, though the effect is much the same. If you could get Phélan and all his extended family connections into one place, under the right — or badly wrong — circumstances, they’d troop, and when they troop you get a Wild Hunt, and then… seriously, run for cover.

Phélan tends to steer clear of his family.

‘This isn’t a connection you’re happy about,’ I surmised.

Phélan didn’t answer right away. He was watching Lysander’s doings with an intent interest, and his face had gone hard and cold.

Abruptly, he looked away. Back at me. ‘He’s not so bad. But he is a damned fool.’

With which words, he rose and abandoned our table, heading for Nelo Lysander.

I followed.

Nelo looked nothing like Phélan, but then, the connection between them was likely remote. He had short-cropped brown hair, a style of dress that was casual to the point of slobbishness, a smiling mouth, and intensely pale eyes. Eerily pale. He looked like the kind of guy who could look up the ghost of your great-grandma, have a cosy chat, and then eat her for lunch.

Which is to say he was a strange blend of joviality and fucking scary. That’s sluagh for you.

‘Nelo,’ said Phélan. A vacant seat beckoned, but he didn’t take it, preferring, apparently, to loom over his distant cousin.

Nelo Lysander had a couple of friends with him, but they all went quiet when Phélan showed up. One was sluagh; the other looked like half sluagh, half troll. Interesting.

‘Hey, if it isn’t Phélan,’ said Nelo, with an expansive, easy smile. ‘Sit down, buddy. And your lady friend, too.’ His pale eyes shifted to me, appraising. Appreciative, in ways I didn’t appreciate. Assessing.

‘Tai,’ I said, and, remembering the role I was playing, I smiled into those creepy eyes, and held out my hand. ‘Not Phélan’s lady friend.’

Nelo shook my hand, holding it slightly too long. ‘I like her already,’ he informed Phélan.

‘She’s everyone’s favourite gal,’ he agreed, and took the proffered seat. I accepted one from Nelo’s half-troll friend, taking a moment to size him up as I did so. You don’t see half-trolls very often. This one had the appearance of being uncomfortable with himself, rather self-effacing. Much more so than a man of his physical advantages ought to be; he was intimidating. I awarded him a smile, rather more genuine than the one I’d bestowed upon Nelo. He smiled back.

The third person at the table, the other sluagh, said nothing and did nothing. He watched. He had an air of stillness that suggested high alertness, and a busy mind. What was he reading into the situation? What did he make of me, or of Phélan’s appearance? I couldn’t read him.

‘Here on business?’ said Phélan, and repeated his send-me-drinks gesture to Tully.

Nelo looked from Phélan to me. ‘Might be,’ he said cautiously.

‘Don’t be shy of Tai,’ said Phélan. ‘She’s in business, too.’

‘Oh? And what business might that be?’ Nelo directed this question at me, ignoring Phélan.

Tricky. You can’t exactly come right out and say you’re trying to sell your erstwhile best friend into slavery and you’d like to make use of your new acquaintance’s contacts to do it.

‘I’ve heard there’s money in furs, lately,’ I said.

Nelo nodded. ‘Plenty. Lots of fine ladies like yourself, wanting a bit of luxury.’

Nelo didn’t seem to be catching my drift. His friend, though… maybe. Something had changed with him, too subtle to put my finger on. But I had his attention.

‘Nothing too common, though,’ I continued, briefly catching the eye of Nelo’s friend. ‘I’m looking to deal in the rarer kind.’

‘Might be I can put you in the way of an associate of mine,’ offered Nelo. Half his attention was on Phélan as he said it; looking to win his cousin’s approval, was he? I might be able to use that.

I smiled on Nelo. ‘I could use some contacts.’

Nelo’s friend abruptly spoke. ‘Buyer?’

‘Seller.’

Nelo watched this exchange, still smiling. ‘Maybe you and Drevan should get acquainted, hm? Seems like maybe you could help each other out.’

Drevan, as seemed to be his wont, said nothing.

‘Same trade, hm?’ I suggested.

‘New thing,’ said Nelo. ‘Could be—’

‘Shut it, Nelo,’ said Drevan. He looked long at me, jaw set. Nothing about his demeanour seemed welcoming, or conciliatory. But, he hadn’t walked away either.

In appearance, he was thoroughly unassuming, in ways that I might call cultivated. Serviceable haircut, unremarkable brown. In build, neither heavy nor especially thin, and while he was in decent shape he didn’t have the look of a man in fighting condition. Faded blue jeans, a dark t-shirt and a black jacket. Average.

A man dedicated to going unnoticed, in short. That tends to get my attention.

‘Hey, I promise, I’m not here to trade on your patch,’ I said, smiling. ‘Just, I could use a few pointers, you know?’

‘Help the good lady out, Drevan,’ said Nelo. ‘Any friend of Phélan’s, right?’

I dislike playing the helpless female card, as a rule. It’s demeaning. But, fuck me, it works. Few men can resist an opportunity to explain something to an attractive female, and this guy was no exception. Drevan didn’t visibly soften, but a little of the tension went out of that clenched jaw, and he looked away. ‘Sure.’

‘Fantastic,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty sure of my supply. I just need to figure out where to take it.’

Drevan looked at me. Still unreadable, but I had his attention.

After that, I permitted the conversation to slide into other subjects. Wouldn’t do to belabour the point; Drevan would either pursue it, or not.

I have to say, outside of the angle I was trying to work, Nelo and his friends were pretty good company. Especially his half-troll bodyguard – for such he must have been, let’s be clear here. His name, I eventually learned, was Paulan, and he had a taciturn quality I found appealing. Perhaps because it registered with me as shy, rather than pugnacious, like Drevan. I had the feeling, throughout the next hour of drinking and talking, that he was sometimes studying me. Covertly, of course, so I didn’t let on that I had noticed. What was he trying to figure out about me?

I wasn’t surprised when, as Phélan and I rose to leave, Paulan soon found an excuse to follow us.

‘Ma’am,’ he called after me, bringing me to a halt a few steps beyond the Puca’s front door.

‘How courteous,’ I said easily, turning. ‘No one’s called me “ma’am” since about nineteen forty.’ Except Rudy, but only in jest, so I wasn’t going to count it.

Paulan looked sideways at Phélan.

‘You appear to be somewhat de trop,’ I informed Phélan.

He didn’t move.

I lowered my voice. ‘If you imagine I can’t handle myself around your friends, kindly reconsider.’

‘This isn’t a patronising show of gallantry,’ Phélan retorted.

‘Then what is it?’

He had no answer to that, seemingly, for he said nothing, and withdrew with a scowl.

‘Sorry,’ I said to Paulan. ‘Phélan’s…’ Phélan’s what? I couldn’t think of any single word that could encapsulate all the odd and inscrutable attitudes that were his. I shrugged this off with a smile.

‘Your supply,’ said Paulan, without responding to this. ‘You were speaking of — skins, weren’t you?’

‘I believe I said furs.’

‘Drevan’s into something… new,’ said Paulan.

‘Behind Nelo’s back, hm?’

Paulan nodded. ‘I’m not here to talk smack about Nelo, but Drevan’s got ideas.’

I sighed inwardly. I didn’t need to get tangled up with a leadership squabble among Nelo’s gang, whatever the hell they were up to. That said, I had got the impression that Nelo wasn’t quite the brightest star in the sky. I could see how that would frustrate a man like Drevan.

Perhaps this, too, was something I could use.

So what did Paulan want? I thought fast.

‘You think he’ll win?’ I hazarded.

‘He has support.’

Aha. ‘But not Phélan’s.’

‘Phélan and Nelo are family.’

And among the sluagh, that meant everything. Phélan would never support the deposition of a cousin of his – unless he was suitably motivated, because after all, we’re still talking about Phélan here.

Paulan wasn’t talking like a man who felt a deep and abiding loyalty for either Nelo or Drevan. Probably he was just worried about where his ass was going to land when the dust settled.

‘If Drevan prevails,’ I said, ‘I can try to get Phélan on side for you. Can’t promise, but I’m not awful at this.’

He nodded. ‘I’ve got information.’

‘About Drevan’s buyers.’

‘I’m usually present.’

‘Influence for information, then?’

He nodded.

‘Consider it done.’

Paulan nodded. ‘There’s a building on West Hendon Broadway. Derelict. You got something to sell, show up tomorrow night. Auction starts at ten.’

‘And Drevan?’

‘He won’t stop you.’

So he was acting with Drevan’s knowledge and consent – or at least, he could presume far enough on Drevan’s favour to feel certain of his support. I revised my ideas about Paulan’s neutrality.

‘I’ll be there,’ I told him, and tipped my hat. ‘Appreciate it.’

He nodded, and returned inside.

I returned to Phélan.

‘There’s a power struggle going on,’ I said, falling into step beside him.

‘Drevan trying to unseat Nelo again?’

‘It’s happened before?’

‘Nelo will deal with it.’

‘I promised I’d use my influence with you.’

He looked down at me. It was dark, and since his eyes were shadowed beneath the brim of his homburg, I couldn’t decipher his expression. ‘Sounds like fun,’ he said.

‘All kinds of fun. But if you’re determined on this policy of non-interference, there isn’t a whole lot of point in my unleashing the feminine wiles tonight.’

‘Who said anything about determined.’

I grinned. ‘All right, hold that thought. In the meantime, we have a date for tomorrow night.’

‘Let me guess. The kind of date that in no way resembles an actual date.’

‘Unless gate-crashing a highly illegal selkie slave market in my company sounds likely to turn you on, in which case, suit up.’

He shook his head. ‘Life’s been so quiet without you.’

‘I refuse to believe any part of that statement.’

‘Would you accept quieter?’

‘Allowable.’

We emerged from the Puca’s lands onto Adelaide Road, which was… random. It’s always random. I’ve never ended up on the same street twice.

Phélan paused in front of a tall block of flats, light from its many windows casting half-shadows onto his face.

‘Problem?’ I said.

‘Are we done for tonight?’

‘I’ve no other use to make of your connections just now, if that’s what you mean.’

‘I thought it was my aura of badness.’

‘Or that either.’

He nodded. ‘I was going to suggest going for a drink, but we’ve done that.’

I’d absorbed more than enough peculiar Puca beverages for one evening, that was for sure. Especially since I was very much on the job.

‘Any other ideas?’ he said, watching me.

‘Are we talking about the kind of date that in every way resembles a date.’

‘Let’s say yes.’

‘In that case, no.’

‘I’d like to change my previous answer.’

I grinned. ‘You know it’s a bad idea.’

‘I know nothing of the kind.’

‘Track record of total disaster, etc, etc.’

‘You worry too much.’ He turned, and began to walk away from me.

‘Tomorrow,’ I called after him.

‘Yes, yes.’ He was briefly illuminated by the yellow glow of a nearby street lamp, then faded into the shadows beyond.

I lingered a moment, wondering if he would come back. When he didn’t, I stepped around the side of the block of flats, and concealed myself in a dark spot, beyond the reach of the lamps.

Daix picked up on the third ring. ‘Tai. Tell me shit.’

‘I’ve got a lead.’

‘Yes.’

I ran her through the evening’s developments, glossing over some of Phélan’s contributions. Daix tended to get incendiary on that subject. ‘So, more names for you,’ I concluded. ‘This Drevan Somebody has links to tomorrow’s auction. If he has any known associates besides Nelo—’

‘I know, I know. I get the drill.’

‘Sorry. Anyway, feel like showing up?

‘Me?’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not, because I’m always the bridesmaid.’ I could hear the scowl in Daix’s voice, even if she spoke lightly.

‘Who’s the bride in this scenario?’

‘Fionn.’

‘Ah. Don’t worry, she’s coming too.’

‘Sweet. All the girls together again.’

Her tone dripped sarcasm, or perhaps it was venom.

‘So, are you coming?’ I persevered. ‘If you’re passing yourself off as a buyer in this charming scenario, you’d want to be at this auction.’

‘You mean I get to show up and make it rain.’

‘I’ll take that over burning the place down, sure.’

She was grinning as she said, ‘Party. I’ll dress up.’

‘Great. Now go away. I have to talk to Fi.’

‘Okay, but I think you’re rushing things. It’s customary to wait until at least the fourth date before you propose marriage.’

‘Speaking from experience, are you?’

‘Yes.’

I blinked. ‘No further questions.’

‘Damnit. Should’ve hooked you with that one.’

‘Too obvious.’

‘Worth a try. Oh! I have a nugget of news for you, too.’

‘Sounds promising,’ I said.

‘Guess who has links-by-marriage to the loaded and fashionable Quinn-Diamhor family.’

‘Please say Brianne.’

‘Got it in one.’ Daix sounded incredibly pleased with herself, but I let it pass. She’d earned it. ‘Brianne Lamarre’s mother was a Quinn-Diamhor by birth. Married a bit beneath herself, by popular opinion, but our girl Bri’s been cultivating those connections.’

‘Good job.’

‘That was a compliment, Tai. A real one.’

‘Yes, yes it was. I’m guessing you haven’t found Brianne herself yet?’

‘That sounded more like an insult.’

‘Only a bit. Anything else for me?’

‘You expect such a lot from a girl.’

I grinned. ‘Call me when you’ve got more. Bye.’

It took me a few minutes to work up the will to call Fi. This wasn’t going to be the fun kind of conversation.

‘Fi,’ I said when she picked up. ‘Hey. You busy?’

‘I’ve a few minutes. Something afoot?’

‘Rather.’ I took a breath. ‘Look. I know we lost touch for a while there, but we were always good friends before, and…’

‘Mm?’ she prompted.

‘And I was wondering if it’s too soon to drag you to a slave auction and sell you to the highest bidder.’